My freshman year roommate and I didn't get along ........ and that doesn't even count Crackling Rosie and ABC (Easy as 1 2 3). As a matter of fact, he didn't particularly get along with most everyone, especially the frosh quad next door. Oh yeah, he was tough to live with and I was a picnic. And who knows, he's probably a great guy now. But back then, well a book would be needed to depict his entire set of foibles.

Anyway, he hooked up with a rather attractive SMC chick at an early smoker. But, because he was such a pompous ass, she dumped him before October came and went (a rather expensive and humorous story unto itself).

So, for his spring birthday, he received a notice to pick up a package at the ND post office. It was wrapped in brown paper and had Happy Birthday written on it as well as her name and SMC return address. You know the birthday boy was nothing if not a perfect target. All day, he walked around campus, around the lake, carrying his package, smiling, savoring the moment. He told me and our other roommate that she came back as he knew she would. They always do; you just must stand by your principles.

Finally, in the evening, he opened the package and proceeded to unfold the tin foil to reveal a rather ripe log that had been ever so delicately packaged with an attempt to hide the aroma until full disclosure. The birthday boy's response was an "Oh Shit" followed by a hand washing.

The second roommate story was from sophomore year. He was a rather strange bird who became our roommate by default because our original roommate had decided to transfer. Oh yeah, he was strange and I was normal. He had an expensive stereo system that we were welcome to use; and we did so, even over an extended weekeend in which he went home to Oklahoma. Well, we broke the stylus, necessitating a rather harried weekend finding and then spending nearly 40.00 on the replacement, a tidy sum in those days ... especially for a couple of paupers. I don't remember if he noticed it or we just fessed up, but we did end up telling him the story. At that point, he told us that it was already broken and that he was eventually going to need to replace it. Then, in his true strange fashion, he said thanks and that he no longer needed to replace it. Singed. Singed bad.